


Making Tea, Taking Comfort 3 -- Advice

by Viola_Laterra



Series: Making Tea, Taking Comfort [3]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Male-Female Friendship, Multi, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Other, Romantic Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-16 23:06:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20610860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viola_Laterra/pseuds/Viola_Laterra
Summary: Katara seeks some support from Zuko after Aang raises some questions about the future.





	1. Chapter 1

Katara looked at the note she had written, re-reading it, thinking about what it meant. Then, satisfied, she rolled it up, put it in the little scroll-case, and strapped it to the leg of her messenger hawk. She smiled a little indulgently at him, and said, "You know, I made fun of Sokka for using messenger hawks, all those years ago, but it really does turn out to be pretty useful." The hawk cocked its head intelligently at her. She sighed and put the falconry glove on, held her hand next to the bird's legs, and he stepped up obediently. Katara walked him to the window, which she then opened. "Go on," she said, giving the glove a sharp little lift, the signal for the bird to take flight. "You know where you're going," she said, as he flew off.

_Would you like to meet for tea?_ her note had read. She knew Zuko would know what that meant: code for "I'm in need of support." He'd respond with a time, and they'd meet at the Jasmine Dragon, and spend some time together, probably sleeping in the same bed as they had that first time (and most of the times since). One or the other of them had called for time together like this periodically over the years... Katara admitted to herself that she'd called him for it more frequently in the beginning, because she'd needed more support when Aang had been gone a lot more, continuing to try to heal the longstanding wounds of the Hundred Year War. And... she thought to herself, Aang had still been so immature. Or rather, he'd still swung between immature and timeless. Not as much as he had when they'd first met, when all he wanted to do was ride otter penguins and avoid his responsibilities as the Avatar. But sometimes she'd still felt like the only grown-up in the relationship. And Zuko's seriousness had been a kind of relief from that.

The bird lost to her view, Katara let out a long breath and went back down to her rooms. Of course, now she actually missed that side of Aang. As he was getting older, he was getting more and more serious, himself. Some of that childlike joy seemed to have waned, as he took on the responsibilities of rebuilding Air Nomad culture, of trying to keep balance and peace between the nations -- and the spirit world -- and still trying to have a life with her. Though he'd grown more handsome as he matured, he smiled less often.

How many times in the past had she wished he would be more serious? And now how much did she miss his playful side? How much did she miss that sneaky smile that meant he was up to no good?

Well, at any rate, she was feeling conflicted enough about the conversation they'd just had before Aang had left that she wanted Zuko's comfort. Though he was not nearly as sour as he had been during the War, Zuko still tended on the extremely serious side. Katara supposed that people could see that he was warm with children, especially his half-sister (though of course, she was nearly grown now). And... Zuko was warm with Katara, particularly when they were alone. In more ways than one, she thought, remembering all the times they'd made tea together like that first night. And he had other ways of using his firebending subtly, warming the bed before she got there, making little flames, held in his hand, to light the way on the odd time they'd gone for an evening walk in the gardens of Ba Sing Se. 

Once, early on, she'd commented on the precision he must have mastered in order to do that, and he'd laughed awkwardly and told her about the one date he'd been on with a girl from the Earth Kingdom. The look on his face when he described lighting the torches for her at the fountain was heartbreakingly vulnerable and whole; for someone who'd been so scarred in so many ways by that time, the fact that he'd found that moment for himself -- and the girl -- warmed Katara even more than Zuko's fire itself. So, really, she thought, it was how he used his fire that was so comforting, so satisfying.

Not that she hadn't done the same with water for him. He'd been injured, more than once, when she'd found him at his uncle's. He often stepped into harm's way to address conflicts both within his own nation and between it and other nations. And as she always did for those she loved, or really anyone who was suffering, Katara would heal his wounds. And it always felt particularly good to heal Zuko. Sometimes Katara imagined that she was taking away just another little piece of his long-held pain, along with whatever current injury he was suffering from. He never said so, but the look in his eyes when she did it gave her a hint that it might be the case.

Well. Enough of this, she thought to herself. There's work to be done, as always.


	2. Chapter 2

It was a week later that Katara arrived in Ba Sing Se to meet Zuko. He was, as always, as incognito as he could be, wearing his hair down to partially obscure his scar, wearing simple Earth Kingdom clothing in whatever the current trending fashion was.

As they sat together at a booth in the margin of the Jasmine Dragon, Iroh having already brought them their tea, Zuko said to her, "You know, I once tried to make tea for him."

"You did?" Katara laughed a little. She imagined that hadn't gone well.

Zuko laughed, too, and smiled; a rare enough occurence, even so many years after he'd warmed up. His smiles were often sly, subtle ones, but this one crept from that to something more open as he laughed a little harder. He said, "I did. I didn't know it at the time, but I am terrible at making tea. He must have really struggled to choke it down. Either that or he somehow dumped it without me noticing. He was always kind like that, even then." He paused, and sighed, looking distant for a moment. "Especially then."

Katara smiled at Zuko. She raised her cup to him and said, "To the Dragon of the West and his kindness." Zuko touched his cup to hers and added, "And his skills in blending and brewing tea, which are a lot better than mine!" They both chuckled and then settled in to sip the aforementioned tea. 

This was definitely just what Katara had been hoping for. Warmth. A little reminiscing. A reminder of the experiences they had in common, even if some of them were not so positive. Something that grounded her. Aang, nowadays, was actually pretty good at grounding her -- no small thing for an airbender (let alone the last airbender). But his usual steadying effect had not worked after the last conversation they'd had. It was a relief to feel grounded in a different place, with a different person, with a different part of herself. At least for a while, while she contemplated how to respond. She let her thoughts wander a little: she still remembered the first time she'd told Aang about her and Zuko. He'd responded... less than calmly.

"What?!!" Aang had exclaimed. "You *slept* with him?" Katara had felt herself go cold with anger. Of course this is how he'd react. Naturally, timeless Aang had told her one thing, but when she acted on it, childlish Aang was the one she had to deal with.

She'd crossed her arms and said tightly to him, "We slept in the same bed. I already told you that nothing other than that happened." She'd left out the part where she'd soothed Zuko's anguish about Mai. She felt Zuko would have wanted privacy about that. So though it wasn't strictly true that *nothing* other than sleeping had happened, she felt it was close enough to the truth to satisfy.

Aang paced around the room in agitation, not quite airbending, though Katara could feel the energy building around him. "But... But... why *Zuko*?" 

Katara blew out a breath sharply at him. "Would you rather it had been someone you didn't know? A total stranger?"

Aang threw up his hands in exasperation. "Augh! No, of course not, but..."

Katara uncrossed her arms in order to settle her hands on her hips. She stepped close to Aang and said, "But what, then? Zuko is a friend. Someone we both trust. He and I... agreed that it was nice to have company when we were both feeling lonely."

Somehow that was the thing that cut through Aang's distress. He abruptly stopped pacing and looked her in the eyes; actually looking down from above, just a bit, she'd noticed for the first time. 

Aang said, tentative, soft: "You were... you were feeling lonely?"

Katara sighed, feeling her own anger fade. She knew she had to be patient with Aang, on a lot of things. And she also knew that he was worth it. She answered, "Yes. Just like you thought I might be."

Aang sighed and looked down. He said, in that way he had, "I'm sorry, Katara. Of course you were. And of course I... I said you could..."

Katara put a hand on his shoulder. "I know you said I could. But I didn't actually do anything more than cuddle for warmth when I was cold. And I told you about it as soon as I could, afterwards."

Aang looked back up, meeting her eyes again. He nodded, a look of determination settling over his face. "All right. I'm sorry I over-reacted like that. You can do whatever you think is right, as long as I know about it at some point."

Katara laughed softly. She said, "I don't think it will happen. But I will let you know if it does." She slid her hand to the back of his neck, also noting for the first time how he was already broader-shouldered than he had been. She added, leaning close, "And besides, you know you're my main squeeze, anyway, right?" She just saw him smile before he leaned in too, to close the distance.

And that had been the last argument they'd had about it. Katara had never felt the need to be intimate with anyone other than Aang and Zuko, and she and Zuko only ever shared a certain type of intimacy, and no one seemed to mind the arrangement.

A good, thing, too, she thought. Aang asking her the questions he'd just asked her... she needed someone else she trusted at that level, someone to talk to about it. But not yet.

Katara studied Zuko contemplatively over her cup as she sipped. He was taller, too. Well, they all were. They'd only been in their teens when they'd been struggling to end the war together. Aang had grown the most of them, of course, and Toph nearly as much. But even Katara, Zuko, and Sokka had grown, in many ways. Zuko was less slender than he had been, but his face still had a fine-featured quality that hadn't changed. Not quite elfin, but definitely a contrast to the way Aang's face had matured; he'd developed the beginnings of a strong, square jaw. She did like the beard Aang had started to grow, she thought to herself. It emphasized the lines of his face in an attractive way. But she also appreciated how Zuko had matured, too.

There *were* times when she sometimes wondered if she should ask for more from Zuko... or if Zuko wanted more than they had. Sometimes when she touched him, or he touched her, there was an echo of longing, back behind everything. But even then, Katara also felt that what they had was very satisfying, and really not worth risking with additional complexity.

Eventually they finished their tea, and retired to the guest room Iroh had set up for them. He knew of their arrangement; Zuko had told her that his uncle had asked him what was going on between the two of them. Of course Iroh had noticed, and of course he'd been concerned, because he cared for all three of them. Iroh had worried that someone was going to get hurt.

Zuko, even telling Katara about the conversation with his uncle, had gotten adorably flustered. His uncle surely would have seen that Zuko was telling the truth, that everyone knew what was going on, and everyone was fine with it. Katara wondered if Iroh guessed exactly what they did together, or if he assumed it was the obvious sort of thing people did in this context. But at any rate, he treated her no differently than he had before, and he graciously lent them his spare room.

They'd settled in, taken turns in the bathroom dressing in their nightclothes and doing evening self-care, and made the tea together as they often did. And this time, it was Zuko who had partly reclined on the bed, relaxed, while Katara found herself pacing slowly around the room.

He'd been the one, in the last few years, to call on her. He'd been the one pacing, talking about everything he was coping with in his family and his nation. Katara had listened, had soothed him when he needed it, had offered advice sometimes. He always listened, quiet, when she did, and thanked her for it. He was much more humble than when they'd first met, she thought wryly.

He'd told her that her viewpoint, from outside his family, outside his nation, was valuable. Fresh eyes, fresh thoughts. Well, that was what she needed now.

"Katara." Zuko's voice was even huskier than usual. "Tell me what's wrong."

She sighed, turned back mid-pace towards him on the bed, and then just gave up and sat down next to him. He sat halfway up and leaned against the wall, at right angles to her, putting a hand in the middle of her upper back and closing his eyes. Katara sighed again; she loved it when he did this. He'd just slightly warm his hand, warm her skin and muscles. It was like getting a massage from the sun.

After a few moments, she said, "Well, Aang... finally asked me if I wanted to get married."

Zuko opened his eyes. He sounded a little startled but clearly happy for them: "That's great -- I know you've been talking about it for a long time."

Katara nodded. "Yeah, we have. But then... then he started talking about having kids."

"Ah," Zuko said. "I take it that wasn't what you wanted to hear right then?"

She shook her head. She said, "It's not that I don't want children. I actually do, very much. But... I don't think I was quite ready for it, yet."

Zuko nodded. Katara added, "So... I don't know, I guess I just wanted to talk with you about it. I feel a little bad that I didn't have the same enthusiasm about it when he brought it up."

Zuko sighed, now. He took his hand away from her back (sadly), and sat a little straighter, interlacing his fingers in his lap, looking down at them pensively. "Well, you know I'm a terrible person to ask about parenting. You know what my father was like."

Katara tried not to glance at his scar, and said, "Yes, but I also know what your mother is like. And how you've been with your half-sister, and so many other children, over the years."

Zuko smiled in spite of himself, glancing up briefly to meet her eyes. "Well, I feel like they make it easy. I don't know if it will feel that way when they're mine."

Katara caught a hard edge behind his words. She put a hand on his arm, and he looked up again. As she gazed into his eyes, she said, "Zuko, you'll be a wonderful father."

He sighed a little morosely, but didn't break eye contact. He reached out and touched her cheek softly. "Thanks," he said. "When you say it, I almost believe it."

She laughed sadly. "When will you stop being so hard on yourself?" Zuko gave a soft bark of a laugh back. "When all the hard work of fixing the world is done. And that will probably be never."

Katara drew a little water from the cup she kept at the side of the bed, and bent it to just brush Zuko's neck, where she knew an old injury often bothered him. He sighed and leaned back against the wall again, closing his eyes, letting her ease little aches and pains that she knew were there, because they were always there. When she got to some of the places around his scar that she knew pulled sometimes, particularly if he'd been frowning a lot, he opened his eyes and gently held her wrist away for a moment. 

He said to her, "Katara, even if you're not ready now, you're going to be a great mother. I can see that you'd be kind, but you also wouldn't take any crap. That's the best kind of parent. Someone who makes sure that you know they love you, but also prepares you for what you'll have to face in your life."

Katara, oddly, felt the same way Zuko had just said he had felt: when he said it, she could see it. She could believe for a moment that maybe she would be ready, soon, for motherhood, and that she'd do a good job of it. It was that warmth in the way he said it, that helped chase her own fears and self-doubts away.

And she did think she'd be a good parent. She'd just been afraid to let herself feel that. Why? And she realized that fears about herself weren't her only problem.

She smiled at Zuko. "Thanks." He let her wrist go and closed his eyes again, and she continued healing his little injuries and aches and pains for a few minutes, turning over the new round of thoughts in her mind. 

Eventually, she said, "I'm also... afraid of what it will do to Aang, to be a father. Will it make him more serious? Or more childlike? Which Aang will be helping me co-parent? Playful Aang? Timeless Air Nomad Aang? Serious Avatar Aang?"

Zuko sighed. He opened one eye and looked at her as she finished up her healing and bent the water back into the cup. He said, "Well, he will be whatever he is."

Katara chuckled and started to peel back the covers; it was late. Zuko shifted in the bed to help her. She said to him, "That was cryptic. Have you been practicing your Iroh impressions again?"

Zuko laughed. "That's a compliment, you know." Katara smiled at him and said, "I know."

As they slid into bed, and Zuko curled up around her, Katara said, "I think you're right, though. I can't know how he'll change, or how I'll change, when we become parents. But if we're going to be together for the rest of our lives, then I am signing up for whoever we turn out to be. To be there, no matter what happens."

Zuko nodded, and kissed her ear lightly. "Yeah," he said. Katara felt that fleeting moment of attraction that sometimes flared up, but it quickly passed. And what was left was just the deep feeling of comfort, of safety, and the sense of peace that she'd been hoping to find about what to say to Aang when she saw him next. Katara leaned down to kiss Zuko's wrist in return. "Thanks, Zuko," she said.

"It's no problem," he said, speech a little slurred as he started to fall asleep. "And you know that I'll be there for both of you, no matter how you change."

"Thanks for that, too." And Katara started to feel her mind become comfortably fuzzy with sleep too.

She almost didn't hear him murmur, "You know I love you no matter how you are." And she was just awake enough to murmur back, "I know. I love you too."

And then they were both asleep.


End file.
